Thursday, January 27, 2011

...and there's also a lot of common ground between Zoroastrianism and Judaism. The same way the Karaites celebrated the Rationalism of Islam and saw its similarities with Judaism, so did the Jews born in Babylonia see in Zoroastrian practices, and German Jews see in Calvinism and Kant and Locke etc...

...the Rationalists also dismiss the superstitious aspects of the Talmud, but that's just a small minority of what the Talmud is about. You can't tell me all of Bava Kama was a direct influence of the Avestas...

There's so much I'd like to write about, but...I find it soooo difficult to write a whole blog post. Takes a lot out of me for some reason (or at least I think it does until I actually do it! Like now for example). So, I was thinking of maybe writing in aphorisms instead, like Nassim Taleb. Or at least just shorter and more terse form of essay... Maybe that'll encourage me to write more often..

Monday, December 20, 2010

From a young age I've loved history, and loved even more the prospect of becoming part of the historical process, especially in terms of the history of our people, and the rabbinic literary tradition. I've always tried to collect scholarly works of people I either knew or was acquainted with. My English teacher in high school actually wrote a small commentary on the Parsha in Hebrew, so I acquired that. My high school was also next door to the home of the Romanian "Tenker" Rebbe, so I read his works as well. When I went on to yeshiva in Israel, the rabbis I studied by wrote more serious works: one rabbi wrote a popular commentary to "Nach", another on Sugyot. Though the most influential authors Ive met was during my time in the yeshiva of Moshe Pinto in Petach Tikvah (himself a student of Avraham Ḥafuta). He wrote a very important commentary on Gemara, and he even introduced me to Yitzchak Yosef during his visit to the yeshiva. He is the author of the extremely popular "Yalkut Yosef" series on halacha, which I've been studying since my childhood (not to mention brief meetings I've had with other Sefaradi Gedolei Hador, Ovadia Yosef, Yitzchak Kaduri, Meir Mazuz and Shalom Messas). Since then, every time I see any of their sefarim on a bookshelf, I feel like I'm an active part of the Torah tradition, and that, in a way, I know the authors of all the other sefarim on the shelves. Which is similar to the feeling you get when you write truly innovative Divrei Torah on a Sugya; you real feel like you're part of a chain that did not begin with you, and will not end with you.

The same is true for more secular literature as well, of course. Sometimes you read a book, a novel, and it seems so magical. It's almost hard to believe it's some "made up story" that some guy dreamed up on a Tuesday afternoon. But the more you meet actual authors, of novels, non-fiction and even popular text books on things like science and economics, you begin to feel that this is a continuing, living tradition. None of this is over your or anyone else's heads. The people who wrote these works are actually very human and very fallible. They've just studied a lot more than you. Or are more innovative than you. So, on a smaller level, reading the writings of your peers, whether on blogs or on Facebook or what have you, is a continuation of that phenomenon. People your age and who you know can be authors as well. Perhaps one day it won't be their blog you're reading, but their book, or their best-selling novel, or their science text book or their sefer. And perhaps under their influence, you will do the same.

Though reading blogs also lets you in to some peoples deepest thoughts and lives. Some things they wouldn't even say in person. Sometimes we just don't understand people; "what's going on in their heads?". Well, this is a way to find out. And determine that your innermost thoughts are not all that different from your comrade or your neighbor. We all struggle with the very same things, so why not come to conclusions together...

Tuesday, November 23, 2010

I was just thinking about Tiberius (again!) recently (as a result of me absetmindedly singing "אוחיל יום" to myself, which is a piyut praising the holiness of that city).

I posted not long ago on Facebook how it's funny that not only did a huge amount of Jews live in places like Tiberius and Sepphoris (Teveria and Tzipori), and not only did a lot of Rabbis live there, but the Mishna and the Palestinian Talmud were both written there. Why is it funny? Because these cities were built by the Romans and were centers of commerce and commercialism. Jesus himself speaks of how he always found those distant Roman cities to be daunting in their corruption. My message on Facebook was that Jews really are, as the Nazis said, incorrigible Capitalists and mercantile and bourgeois etc.

But then again, we call Teveria "holy land" and a "holy city", even while the Romans were still there. It seems to give credence to something I once heard from Avigdor Miller: he was kind of anti-Zionist and didn't even believe in Aliyah. He said that, in a sense, every Jewish community was "holy land". Even my native Borough Park or Flatbush. I didn't like that view of things when I heard it, but how is different than Teveria? OK, Teveria is in the Holy Land, as has the Kedushah of Eretz Yisrael like any other part of Eretz Yisrael, but so are places like Tel Aviv. OK, Tel Aviv has Yeshivot and Batei Kneset, but who among us would venture to say that Teveria is a holy city? But we see, again, that because of the presence of people like Rabbi Meir and Rabbi Yehudah Hanasi, these cities were in fact seen as holy places...

Friday, November 19, 2010

I've been exposed recently, here and there, to something I know of through Nietzsche (GS 341) and popular culture, known as the phenomenon of Eternal Return, in which ones reality repeats itself an infinite number of times.

My first recent exposure to the concept has been when I watched (the entire television series of) Battlestar Galactica; a line that is constantly repeated by both Cylons and Humans is, quite similar to the line from Peter Pan, "All of this has happened before, and all of this shall happen again". And, more recently, I saw the 1993 Harold Ramis film, Groundhog Day, in which Mr. William Murray is forced to relive Feburay 2nd in an eternal loop (I had seen the film as a child, but recalled very little from it). Aside from being a feel-good Hollywood romantic comedy, it also brings up some core Nietzschean existential issues: for Bill Murray can only escape the loop when he has completed his mission of living the perfect day--of course, there are moralistic problems with the premise, for example that he improves himself only in order to impress the woman he desires--but otherwise it's thoroughly moralistic.

The only question is, what place does Eternal Return have in religion, and for that matter, Judaism? It is clear that it's origins are in what is known as the "Eastern Religions". Pre-Monotheistic peoples from the ancient Egyptians to the Hindus to the Greeks and even their philosophers believed in certain forms of Eternal Return and of course, reincarnation. And we also know that essentially, Judaism frowns upon reincarnation, or "גלגול" (as an aside, I came to the conclusion a couple of years ago that "גלגול\גלגל", cycle, wheel, is obviously a construct of the word "גל", wave, twice. In other words, a wave that would turn into itself would be a natural cylinder). According to the Torah we only live once, and it's our job to perfect ourselves in order to live out a possible eternal existence in perfection. Not that we'll just return again to this world, to live life over again. Luria and others have devised a form of reincarnation that fits in with the Talmudic conceptualization of Reward and Punishment, but it's not "essential Judaism".

I myself though, ever since I was fourteen years old, envisioned a helpful meditation based on a Groundhog Day-like treatment of Eternal Return (I wonder if that's where I got it from?) that is helpful in a Devotional way. It's also based partly on Luzzatto, who says (in MY) that one should only do something, or indulge in some halakhic leniency, if one is certain that he is doing it because it's permissible, not because his Evil Incantation is prompting him. My idea was that if you wish to do something that you know isn't right, but want to at least indulge in a little, you should think "How intrinsically correct and right is this act? Is this something I'd be ok with doing for a couple of years? Ten years? A hundred years? A thousand? Ad infinitum? If not, then that proves that it's not something you should be doing even for a short time.

Tuesday, September 14, 2010

Well, strangely enough, I actually just saw the 2009 thriller "Law Abiding Citizen", a thoughtful screenplay written by Mr. Kurt Wimmer. This is an example of one of those fine worksof art that question the core values of our society, but which you rarely hear anyone speaking about.

Assuming you too have seen it: I'm not entirely sure what Wimmer is trying to prove; Butler is depicted as the villain, but he wasn't a villain to me. He wanted to change the corrupt system at it's core. A Sodom and Gomorrah type of operation. Sure G-d said he wouldn't destroy the city if there were ten righteous people within the city, but it also says that once punishment comes to the world it kills the righteous along with the wicked.

And anyway, Fox himself becomes his enemy by taking the law into his own hands. That's my favorite part. Although I feel he ends the film as he started; a pompous prosecutor who's totally dependant on the corrupt system.

I, at the very least, challenge anyone who doesn't believe in the death penalty; not to mix Left and Right into the subject, but judge everything on its own, does it make sense to let murderers free? What does that say about society? I personally believe that if it can be proven that someone murdered without any provocation, if he was tortured/maimed for life it would actually prevent future crimes of the same nature, since, if evidence of the previous judgement is evident, who in their right mind would risk it happening to them? And if they did it anyway, surely they deserve the same fate. I mean honestly, does it make sense to give the same punishment for a kosher meat plant owner who hired illegal immigrants and for someone who killed a family in cold blood for no reason other than a malicious spirit?

Another of my favorite scenes from the movie is Fox being sworn in as Phili's new DA; while he swears on the bible to uphold "the law", the camera closes in on the bible, as if to suggest "Does this bible support this law?" Does it really support a criminal justice system as it has developed from Enlightenment notions? I think it's quite clear that it wouldn't. As the Torah and Talmud most certainly do support punishments that really do "fit the crime"....

Sunday, September 5, 2010

I have an acquaintance who I (supposedly) know from the Mir (I don't quite remember him), who, like me, is one of those "lost souls of Borough Park", and, like me, does thinks like go to Arbit at one o'clock at night for no particular reason. Anyway, he spotted me picking up some lemons at the 24 hour fruit store and inquired about the state of my religiosity (he sees me as being a bit "modern"). As it happens he then met a mentally unstable friend of his (another lost soul) and we spoke with him for a while. After he parted from us though, my friend suggested that if I'm not doing much Torah-learning on a daily basis, perhaps it would be best for me to look into at least reading the Torah portion correspondent to the day of the week and/or the Daf Yomi.

On Friday night I had felt back that I didn't give much thought to taking up his offer, so I, surprisingly enough, learned the Parsha and the Daf Yomi. Both actually turned out to be very interesting, and even connected in a way. I will proceed to discuss how they are connected and what gleanings I derived from them:

The Connection: The twentieth page of Avodah Zarah discusses the issur of "לא תחנם". While Nitzavim/Vayelech don't mention it specifically, it does state in verse five of the thirty first chapter "וַעֲשִׂיתֶם לָהֶם כְּכָל הַמִּצְוָה אֲשֶׁר צִוִּיתִי אֶתְכֶם", i.e. those stated in seventh chapter, "לא תחנם" being one of them.

The Daf: Even without the talk of "לא תחנם", I'd definitely put this daf on a list of "most interesting dapim in the Gemara". It talks about giving away land in Eretz Yisrael, it talks about looking at girls and how the Tanaim dealt with it, and it contains the quote which is the foundation of my main spiritual guide, the Messilat Yesharim. Yes, certainly not a daf you want to miss. For me by the far the most absurd part about it is something I had thought of when I was young, if only whimsically: saying the brachah of "שככה לו בעולמו" (which is recited upon seeing beautiful creations) on on attractive girls! (You'll have to read the sugya to find out what happens with that!).

The Parsha: There are two major theological questions that I noticed in this parsha, and they both occur when G-d calls Moshe and Yeshoshua' to the tent to tell them what will happen in the End of Days. First of all, the fact that G-d knows they'll sin brings to question the principle of "הכל צפוי והרשות נתונה". Secondly, it's well known that the Halocaust is alluded to here (via the Torah Codes).

G-d knows that we'll sin: I actually heard a shiur on this by רב אורי שרקי recently, as to how this relates to tshuvah (there's another connection to current events!). After Maimonides, many other sages, such as the Gersonides, Hasdai Crescas and Isaac Abarvanel all dealt with this issue, as well as many philosophers such as Malebranche and Kant. In the end, they only complicate the theological paradox by suggesting solutions. The truth is though, I really never understood the difficulty; even though G-d knows every scene in the film as if it was unrolled, if you walk into the movie in the middle, all you see is one tiny part of the film. And you, therefore, still don't know what's going to happen...

Holocaust: Some Eli Wiesel type "Post-Shoah" scholars feel that, as a result of what was displayed during the Holocaust, that once G-d imbued Man with the power of Free Will, even He cannot control what they do. I always thought it's silly to change your theological views in the long run due only to the Holocaust. If Khmelnytsky had gas chambers he definitely would have used them. Every generation kills its Jews based on the technology they have available. That's simple. Just because the Germans had better technology to kill Jews doesn't mean it was more "theologically significant". Rashi clearly states about The Flood that, "אנדרלמוסיה באה לעולם, והורגת טובים ורעים". Capitulating to the ideas of those "ריקנים" is a symptom (no offence) of the theological weakness and ignorance of young people the likes of Chana (The Curious Jew), who are more swayed by the words of contemporaries than by the words of our Sages...

Tuesday, August 31, 2010

I hate how they make it seem like everything Chacham Ovadia says is some political statement. He's talking to a group of, usually poor and not very well educated, residents of the most destitute neighborhood in Jerusalem, Schunat HaBucharim, who are in for a weekly two hour speech in cold dry halacha (I was often in attendance). He was giving a bracha before the speech for the new year (as he would be able to give the speeches before Rosh HaShana). He quoted the prayer recited on the eve of Rosh HaShana that says "May our enemies be cut off", as, as our "enemies", obviously included the leaders and constituents of the Palestinian terror groups that have been plaguing and murdering our people for decades. And it's of course that two second sound byte that the secular media chooses to quote, and not any of the two hour drasha of innovative approaches to halacha, or the beautiful mussar and ethics that he discussed that evening. Even though you'd be hard pressed to hear something that's not Torah from the mouth of חכם עובדיה, still, his Torah you'll never hear from them (while all they do in the Mosques on Friday is curse Israel and talk about military aspirations)...

Also, he wished the prayer upon "Yishmael". This is another topic: the Israeli media always tries to single things out as if they're very recent historical phenomenon. As if there were never Haredim before 1948, as if there were never Zionists before 1948. According to them, there were barely even Jews before 1948. Everything in the world started in the here and now. Obviously that's absurd. The relationship between Jews and Arabs for example; way older than 1948. Unlike European Jews, we have always been praying for the destruction of "Yishmael" in our prayers and our songs. Even a thousand years ago, one of the songs written for Simchat Torah, called "יום שמחה לישראל", goes through the entire alphabet withing joy upon Israel and destruction upon Yishmael (and it's extremely descriptive). Our greatest poets, even from the Golden Age in Spain, called Yishmael our greatest enemy and have prayers to G-d for their downfall all throughout their poetry.

So, again, חכם עובדיה is not, nor has he ever been a politician. He spearheaded the founding of a political party, but only, in his own words, to have more funds stipend to Sephardic religious institutions. He is no more than a rabbi and a "halachist", and uses the same terminology that was always used, especially today when the Arabs are at our necks to such an extent.

I think the Neturei Karta and other Satmar Chasidim are being more than a little misleading about their own ideologies to the secular media solely in order to deride the Zionist ideology in the eyes of the Nations. They urge people to differentiate between "Jews" and "Zionists", explaining that only Zionists believe in Occupying Palestinian land and killing innocent civilians, while they portray themselves, representatives of real Judaism, as political doves.

I feel they are being openly misleading since the Satmar must believe in Mashiach. Because if they didn't, they would be outside the pale of Orthodox Jewry by all standards. They believe in a Mashiach who will be accepted to Satmar standards, but if there one day is a may who conforms to all their Messianic requirements, they will be compelled to follow him. And in every version of the Jewish story, whether you're Satmer or Abayudaya, Mashiach leads the Jews back to Israel. Here's the tricky part; there are already Palestinians in Israel. But they too will of course accept the authority of a Satmer Mashiach, because he is, after all, not Zionist. ...won't he? Well, we have a tradition about the Messianic Era that states "עולם כמנהגו נוהג", nothing will happen on a supernatural level. Besides for the return of the Jewish state under Mashiach, things will be the same. In that case: no. The Palestinians will not leave their houses because a Satmer Mashiach tells them to or because a Lubavitch Mashiach tells them to! In that case, there can be no way around some level of bloodshed. Even the Satmer agree to that. Just because their Mashiach hasn't come YET, doesn't mean they don't believe that he will or that they gave up on their Messianic dream to occupy Palestine.

I think it's silly to imagine a Judaism exclusive of Eretz Yisrael, and what living there entails. I'll give you an example; I think it's stupid how the כיבוש הארץ is always attributed to Yehoshua and Yehoshua alone. It says clearly in the summer parashyot which no one ever bothers to read that Moshe Rabenu was also involved in many of the initial campaigns East of the Jordan. That's right, the man who received the Torah twice with his very hands has the same person to draw his sword and fill it with the blood of the armies of the Bashan and the Emori, to make way for Jewish Settlers. And let us not forget the author of the beautiful Tehillim which fills our mouths every day of the week; David Hamelech, another great pillar of normative Judaism, waged wars with neighboring nations only for the sake of acquiring land! Even according to Satmer, Judaism and "Zionism" cannot exist without each other (for them they do now, but they have not and will not always be apart).

The Christians are also very misrepresentative of themselves; they say that, notwithstanding events like the Crusades and Inquisition, "essential" Christianity is peaceful whereas essential Islam is warlike. That's pure rubbish my friends; there is an oft-quoted verse, among many others of it's kind, from the mouth of the Prince of Peace himself: "I come not to bring peace, but to bring a sword". The only possible PC explanation that could be given for such a statement is that in the Gaelic Bible, the word for sword is actually exchanged for the word for peace. Yes, but the Bible was not written in Gaelic...

All three of us, Jews Christians and Muslims, have to stop being squeamish about what our scriptures actually say.....

Thursday, August 19, 2010

Nothing much of great import to report, friends, besides for the fact that on Tuesday night, after a direct wall-to-wall facebook invite, I decided to attend one of the writing meetings (most likely a spin-off of the poetry meetings) orchestrated by the honourable Mr. Baruch Tauber. I had been feeling my creativity wane anyway so I felt it would be good for me. And it was. Tauber had an image prepared for us which we were to see, and subsequently formulate a story from. In this case it was a girl and a man on a highway fixing a car. Based on that I started writing a short story, since I wasn't sure what protocol called for (it turned out vignettes were more appropriate), and based as well on the fact that, as I've mentioned here before, I'm trying to work on my narrative writing. It was about a girl with divorced parents who was having a frictional relationship with her father who had custody of her on Sundays only. Long story short, my idea was to have them reconcile as a result of a non-injurious car accident (perhaps I'll post it here later). Though I admitted that was quite a dull scenario, and quite honestly not one I'm interested in myself, but time was of the essence.

Also in attendance from the world of Chabad blogs was Feivel ben Mishael, and I got a chance to chat with him a little afterwards. One thing that stands out in my mind from my conversation with him was the strange reason he admired the no comments policy of Yossi's blog. He said that he's concerned that other bloggers will argue with him and espouse ideas that are seditious to Chabad on his blog. I was flabbergasted to hear of such a withholding of the First Amendment from a compatriot. Though of course his ideas were sound based on Chabad ideology, but I shiver to think how they interact with those of other faiths if they cannot even have a dialog with those of their own faith...

Feivel also mentioned how he's blogging less these days, much like me. And much like me, not because he's lacking ideas, but because the transferral of those ideas from electrons in the brain to pixels on a screen often seems daunting. Perhaps I am just projecting my own issues upon others, but I think there's less blogging going on in general at the moment, and in the Chabad community in particular. It can't just be me, since Sara Bonne seems to be struggling with quite the same issue.

Another Chabad-blogger-related-issue that's crossed my mind is that the poetry slam itself seems not to be happening much recently. I think it may have to do with the fact that it's biggest protagonists were the Kings and the [TRSers], who are now living more sedentary lives, and have less of a need for poetry slams. Oh well, lets hope them well and hope the occasional slam returns in the autumn.

Monday, July 19, 2010

"To be a free people in our own land, The land of Zion and Jerusalem." These are the words that end the Hatikvah anthem. For generations, many of the more traditional factions in Judaism opposed the idea of "Political Zionism", and their opposition could easily be manifest in this last verse of Hatikvah; the Secular Jews who revived Zionism and established the Jewish State in Zion wanted a society "free" from G-d's laws and free from religious responsibilities. Quite simply, they wanted to be freye yidden, or "free Jews", a derogatory term used by the Ultra Orthodox in Europe connoting Secular Jews.

What I always wondered how they overlooked though, is that Hatikvah is obviously not the first Jewish text yearning for national "freedom". Every day we say in our prayers תְּקַע בְּשׁוֹפָר גָּדוֹל לְחֵרוּתֵנוּ, "Blow the great ram's horn to liberate us". Also the famous prayer in the Hagadah לְשָׁנָה הַבָּאָה בְּאַרְעָא דְיִשְׂרָאֵל בְּנֵי חוֹרִין, "Next year in the Land of Israel, free men". We see that Jewish liturgy has always been replete with prayers for freedom. Not freedom from religion, as traditionalists naively suppose about Hatikvah, but freedom to serve G-d as we're meant to.

This topic of national liberation finds an appropriate place in our current spot on the Hebrew calender. Tonight we mourn the destruction of our beloved Temple in Jerusalem, and the subsequent fleeing of G-d's Direct Presence from the earth. Our sages say the main reason for this destruction was because our ancestors harbored too much baseless animosity for one another (Yoma 9b). But that is a more spiritualistic reason responding to why G-d allowed it to occur, but there were naturalistic political reasons the Talmud discusses as well (Gittin 56a), and what arises from the entire narrative is that the reason for the Destruction was the stubbornness of the Nationalist Party, who were always looking to oust the Romans from the Holy Land. Since, had the Peace Party been the only ones in power, there would have not been any reason for war, and Israel would have prospered, yet, under the boot of the Roman, prosperity is quite relative, and for many war is preferable to peace (if it seems silly to you to make such an ado out of the Roman presence in Israel, just see how fired-up the Arabs are today in contemporary Palestine about "foreign occupation").

Were they sinners then? Those who brought about the destruction of G-d's Sanctuary on Earth? I think it would be silly to say such a thing, because, unlike what the Haredim propose, freedom has always had a prominent place in our liturgy and our national conscience. Even in the face of adversity, it is a mitzvah to strive towards the further emancipation of our people. Not to give this post a political tone, but just to be clear: Even today, in what is called the "Israeli Occupied West Bank" and Judea, while we are in fact in power and it is the Arabs who are struggling for their emancipation, there is still much action taken to prevent our people from living freely on its land. So, today as well, it would be wrong to criticize their struggle.

May we all merit to work in unison, drive the Arab off the Temple mount, and rebuild the Third Temple brick by brick with our own two hands. Amen.

Saturday, May 22, 2010

I haven't been writing much recently it seems; I keep seeing my name fall lower on the "recently updated" blogrolls of my friends who were kind enough to include me in their lists. It's mostly due to lethargy I guess, a trait I unfortunately have an unusually intimate relationship with. By the way, hope to see you by the Israel Day Parade today!

Anyway, one thing that's been plaguing my mind recently has been the issue of skirt lengths for females. My opinion about the subject has always been that longer is better, partially for reasons of tzni'ut and partially because I simply find that to be more attractive (and thus do what I can to promote such a manner of dress). Recently though, a learned friend of a friend asked me for a Talmudic source for this idea, and I couldn't think of anything offhand. Though with a lit bit of thought I came up with something very simple; the "kol Isha" Sugya. Which itself happens to be very contradictory....

Proving That Girls Must Wear Long Skirts:

It says in Brachot 24/a, discussing what one can be facing while reciting Kri'at Sh'ma, quotes Ribi Yitzchak who says "A tefach (of revealed flesh) in a woman is 'erva'", and then quotes Rav Hasda who says that "The 'leg' of a woman is 'erva', the hair in a woman is 'erva' and the voice of a woman is 'erva'".

I do not wish to discuss Kol Isha for the moment, so let's stick with the leg prohibition: The Hebrew word used is "שוק". The definition of שוק is not clear; many poskim understand it as meaning the thigh (upper portion of the leg) until the knee. Based on this understanding they not only allow men to recite K"S in the presence of women who's upper legs are covered, but in general allow skirts for women as long as they cover the thigh (and knee). What many don't know though is that other poskim understand שוק as the calf (the lower portion of the leg)! Which would mean that not only must that part of the leg be covered for men to recite K"S facing it, but that a woman must cover her entire leg in general (stockings are not considered a covering in halacha unless they are 100% opaque, so it's as if they're not there).

Proving the Exact Opposite:

In my struggle for a more Egalitarian Judaism, one thing I always feel bad about regarding the dress restrictions on women is dressing so properly that it's at times absurdly out of place. For example, my mind always told me that if an Orthodox woman is doing something like mountain climbing, a little more leniency should be provided than just being able to don trousers under a skirt, which is as far as most authorities are willing to allow. The funny thing is though that based on the reasoning of one explanation of this statement, woman's dress restrictions lessen greatly.

To begin, it would seem that this statement is extremely restricting; we just stated that a woman's lower leg cannot be revealed because it's mentioned in this statement. But isn't this part of the Gemara's statement only discussing K"S? If the leg being erva means that you can never reveal that part of the body in the presence of men, wouldn't that mean that a woman cannot speak or have her hair uncovered in front of men?

First of all, the Gemara later says that one can never gaze upon a woman's calf (if he is not married to her etc). But in regards to hair the commentators say that only a married woman's hair is considered erva, but in front of an unmarried woman's hair you can say K"S, and she does not have to cover her hair in general. And the reason they give is that only a married woman's hair is alluring. The hair of an unmarried woman is a usual sight.

We see, therefore, that much of tzni'ut (even against what in says in the Gemara) is based on what people today find alluring. So something such as wearing shorts, for example, for a girl, during mountain climbing, might have a היתר based on this mode of thought. I'm obviously not saying I find it to be ok, I'm only saying that these are not clear-cut proofs, and can be used in either direction.

On a similar vein, Rabbi Moshe Feinstein actually has a Tshuva speaking about how tzni'ut in general is dependent on what is acceptable in that place. He says, for example, that if a man lives in a place where everyone walks around with bare arms, even before kings, there is nothing wrong for him to have his arms exposed all day, even in prayer. On the other hand, he also says that if one lives in a place where ankles are always covered, it would even be prohibited for a man to have his ankles exposed. Or even if one generally has his arms or ankles covered outdoors, he may not have them bare at home.

Which is a problem for me at times: For example if I wish to go biking in shorts, I often go from a community where shorts are unacceptable for men (Ultra Orthodox Jewish communities) to a place where everyone is wearing shorts. My opinion is that in the Jewish community one must wear long pants until one reaches an area in which it is acceptable. ועוד חזון למועד.

________________________________________________

Some good sources to use in researching this subject:
1)Yabia Omer 6/14.
2) Tzitz Eliezer 1/62 (though compared to Rav Ovadia it just seems like a lot of unsourced Haredi ranting).
3) Igrot Moshe Y"D2/62
4) Journal of Halacha and Contemporary Society Number IV/May Women Wear Pants?
5) And this shiur from Rav Willig of Yeshiva University, who seems to have come to similar conclusions about lower leg exposure (at 22:10).

Wednesday, April 14, 2010

You know friends, there's something about me that's been on my mind recently, having to do with my verbal interactions with my peers and acquaintances. It seems that I'm rarely if ever the one to end any conversation. It's like I don't "believe" in ending conversations. Which is strange because it's diametrically opposed to my verbal nature as a child. Growing up, I would never exchange a word with someone I wasn't familiar with, and wouldn't say much to friends either. I was quite the nonverbal character. Since my early adulthood though I've been shocked at times to reveal the loquacious version of my personality. Studying the phenomenon as a whole though, I'm coming to think they're not only related, but a direct cause and effect. It's actually because of my quietness that I'm so talkative! Both due to my childhood "תעניות דיבור" and to my extremely limited social interactions as an adult, it seems I've developed a great hunger for that which I've been deprived of so long: speech.

On the other hand though I also have certain ideals at stake when effecting and listening to vocal cord movements. Firstly, I am a great admirer of the art of speech, and feel that it's all but been lost since a century ago, mostly as a result of modern communicative technology. My ideal is people who can continue a single conversation for days, and not even be strayed by a tangent. To me it's representative of mental wealth. Secondly, in regards to listening to others, I refuse to "space out" or stop a conversation abruptly because I find the subject matter uninteresting, and I base my behaviour on my own negative experience: I've been in many environments where my voice was not heard, since those I was speaking to either did not share my interests, or were objectively extremely dull and uninteresting people. Therefore I always make a point to listen.

על המחבר

I'm a Talmudist who has emerged from the Beit Midrash into the world with a vision that filters my reality through a Theological prism, though on the other hand I feel our religion has been corrupted by adding too much to it. I therefore attempt to reevaluate life and Judaism using thinkers in the spirit of Rational Judaism as my guide, while sometimes digressing about my station in life.
...I also talk about shidduchim sometimes!